


All in Good Time

by torino10154



Series: Adventdrabbles 2014 [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Community: hp_goldenage, Holidays, Humor, M/M, Older Characters, Pre-Slash, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 21:49:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2707967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torino10154/pseuds/torino10154
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the prompts: snowflake, grumpy elf, and rumor.</p>
    </blockquote>





	All in Good Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alisanne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/gifts).



> Written for the prompts: snowflake, grumpy elf, and rumor.

Draco didn't look up from his work when he heard the shop bell ring. Scorpius was minding the counter as he often did at Christmas and over the summers. He'd started helping Draco when he was only fifteen but still came back to help when he wasn't needed at Hogwarts. 

This year it was his turn to get the Christmas holidays off, something they'd instituted shortly after the war to give all the professors the occasional, much needed break. 

Touching his wand to the preserved snowflake, Draco then touched it to the glass ball, the pattern transferring perfectly. 

Christmas meant creating lots of ornaments but he preferred it to the wedding season when he was asked to carve names into crystal champagne glasses. So common. So Muggle. 

"Dad," Scorpius said as he opened the door to the back room, "Mr Potter is here. He'd like to speak with you."

Potter. Draco sighed. Anyone else he could brush off but this was Harry Potter as well as the father of his son's best friend. "Tell him it will be a few minutes. And not to break anything."

Scorpius laughed and said, "I'm not telling him that." He turned and let the door fall closed behind him.

Draco transferred several more snowflakes, each one different from the last, allowing the work to calm him. Once he finished the ornament, he hung it on a rack along with the other ones that he'd yet to charm different colours. Some were left clear but many people wanted red, green, gold or silver. The most expensive ones cycled through a rainbow of colours or could be made to match the tree they were decorating.

Running his hands through his hair to smooth it, Draco took a steadying breath and pushed through the door. 

Potter was standing near the counter, looking at the case of small glass pieces. Hair shot with silver

"To what do I owe the honour, Potter?" 

"Honestly, Draco," Potter said, shaking his head. "You could call me Harry. We've known each other for forty years."

Draco bit back his reply—that he most assuredly called Potter "Harry" in his dreams—as he was dealing with a potential client. Nothing more.

"Is there anything I can help you with today?" he asked.

"I've heard a rumour that you create these by hand." He gestured toward the Christmas tree covered in various styles of glass ornaments. "Is it true?" 

"There is a spell, of course," Draco sniffed. "But that is close to the truth, yes."

Potter whistled. "Wow."

"I told you," Scorpius said _sotto voce_ to Potter.

"Scorpius," Draco said softly, pinning his son with a look. Scorpius didn't even look ashamed of himself and instead the corner of his mouth twitched. 

"Don't blame him. I was curious." Potter quickly jumped in. "I see your creations everywhere. You've done well for yourself."

Draco held his head high. "I have. Through lots of hard work."

"I can see that," Potter said, eyes wandering around the shop. "I'd actually hoped to find a gift for Lily for Christmas. Perhaps you could help me."

"I was in the middle of something," Draco said, thinking it would be best for Potter to leave as soon as possible. Talking to him brought things to the surface. 

Things Draco would rather not examine too closely. 

"I could come back another day, then," Potter said.

"No need for that, Mr Potter," Scorpius interrupted smoothly. "Dad's not too busy right now."

"Are you sure?" Potter asked. "Should I make an appointment?"

Draco took a deep breath. "No, no need for that. Let me show you around." He walked toward the door to the back room and held the door open for Potter to follow.

"Dad's just a grumpy old elf at Christmastime—" Scorpius said and Potter chuckled. The nerve of him.

"Scorpius!"

"Sorry, Dad, but it's true." Scorpius was grinned and winked at Draco behind Potter's back. "Happy Christmas!" he mouthed before Draco shut the door.

"Don't touch anything," Draco said.

"I won't, I promise," Potter said, laughing. "Al tells me that each snowflake is different just like real snowflakes."

Draco filed away the information that it's Albus who has talked to Potter about the shop, as that can only mean Scorpius and he are up to something. Why did he think they would outgrow that once they were no longer students?

Why does his chest feel tight and his stomach full of butterflies?

"That's because they are real snowflakes, Potter." Draco lifted one of the snowflakes with his wand. "I never use the same one twice."

Potter's eyes widened. "That's amazing."

"Not really." Draco shrugged. "Each new snowfall supplies me with more snowflakes than I can possibly use."

"It must be time consuming though." Potter peered at the newest ornaments hanging from the rack. 

"It is delicate work." 

Potter nodded and continued studying Draco's various works in progress as well as the equipment and tools assembled on his work desk. 

Draco wanted to say something to fill the silence. Ask Potter if he'd like a drink. Or dinner. Or a shag.

Instead, he said, "If there's nothing else...."

Potter looked up then and blinked. "Right. I'm keeping you from your work."

Draco walked to the door to open it.

"Wait," Potter said.

Draco turned and Potter ran a hand through his still messy, if greying hair. 

"Would you care to have dinner sometime?"

Draco felt like he'd taken a Bludger to the head. "I'm sorry?"

"Never mind, it's nothing," Potter muttered. "I'm terrible at this."

"Terrible at what?" Draco's heart pounded in his chest and he stepped closer to Potter.

Potter sighed and waved his hand vaguely in the air. "You know, getting to know someone."

"I know you, Potter." Draco deflated.

"Not well enough to call me Harry, apparently."

"For Christ's sake, Dad!" Scorpius hissed through the door. 

"You're grounded," Draco said back and only heard a peal of laughter. 

Potter snorted softly but Draco didn't want to look at him. He'd cocked the whole thing up and now Potter would surely think he was a fool and would never want to have a drink. Or dinner. Or a shag....

"So, dinner?" Potter asked again. "Tonight?"

Draco turned his head and met those bright green eyes. "All right. Harry."


End file.
